Leaving its Mark
by EricaX
Summary: One-Shot. A short story about a lesson Drake teaches Gosalyn about fighting at school. Pure fluff. Be gentle. R


Leaving a Mark

Author's Note: This is just a one-shot. There seemed to be some confusion on my last ones-hot of Drake and Gosalyn. This is just a little quick story that came to my mind about Gosalyn learning a lesson from her dear ol' dad.

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The shcoolyard was filled with noisy children, who were outside at recess. The St. Canard School's playground was currently being taken over by hyperactive kids, who were excited to be able to release their energy after having to sit in a class room for the last two and half hours.

Gosalyn Mallard was among these children, as usual playing the guys. She never played with girls her age, seeing as she considered them, "Boring and disgusting" with their girly ways. She would rather go out and play basketball or baseball rather then sit around and gossip as she fixed her hair. She couldn't care less about what she looked like. She looked decent enough and that was fine for her.

Today however, was different. Different because the boys in her class had been beaten by a girl yesterday at the game of baseball. Of course, that didn't bode well for them. So, in retaliation, they did not allow Gosalyn to play with them today. She was forbidden to participate in any of the day's sport games in the playground. This, obviously, made Gosalyn livid.

She glared out at the playground, her hands on her hips with her best friend, Honker Muddlefoot, standing beside her nervously.

"Ooh, Once I get my hands on those jerks!" she threatened, rolling up her sleeve. Honker grabbed her from the back of her shirt, knowing his friend was about to get into a fight.

"No, Gos! I don't think that would be a good idea! You'll only get into trouble!" pleaded the boy genius. Gosalyn shrugged him off.

"Yeah, but it'll feel good sitting in that dentention room after pummeling them to the ground! How dare they not let me play! I'll show them!" she continued to rant in anger.

Honker shook his head, tightening his grip on her. "You may like it then, but you won't like it when your father grounds you for fighting and you miss the next Zombie movie at the theatre!!"

Gosalyn stopped her struggling against him and considered what her friend said. She then shrugged. "Again, it'll be worth it!" She tore away from Honker's grip and strode over to the boys, who were standing over at the home plate.

"Oooh...Look what we have here...If it isn't little Gosalyn Mallard. What's the matter, you want to play?" sneered a large boy with black hair. She glared at him, wondeirng how he could even be passed as a duck. His beak looked like the snout of a pig, it was so deformed. It amazed her that he wasn't the laughing stock of the school. Beaker, his name was, took a step closer and Gosalyn then remembered why he wasn't picked on. He was one of the largest kids in their grade. Very tall, which made Gosalyn have to tilt her head slightly to look at him.

"I don't think it's fair that I can't play a game simply because I'm better than you!" crowed Gosalyn. The boys around Beaker laughed.

"Who said we lost?" he asked with a shrug. "We didn't lose...You cheated..."

Gosalyn's eyes went wide. It there was one thing that made her livid, it was being called a cheater. She never went against the rules. Well, at least when it came to sports. "I didn't cheat, you liar!!"

The boys continued to laugh at her. Gosalyn started to see red as her anger boiled under her skin. The next thing she knew, she had rammed herself into Beaker's chest, knocking the unexpecting kid down. There was a howl of anger and excitement all at once as the two of them started fighting on the ground. A group of kids surrounded them to watch, half cheering for Gosalyn, half cheering for Neaker. One second it was Gosalyn who was on top, punching him in the nose with a fistfull of his shirt. Then Beaker would be on top, slamming her back and forth into the ground. Up down, up down. Each time she hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of her.

Then, it was all over.

There was a whistle and the angry shouts of their teacher. "Now, now! What's all this about!?" demanded the old woman. She was an elderly mallard with gray hair. "Break it up, now, Break it up!! Come on now!!" She tore her way through the crowd until her green eyes met Beaker and Gosalyn. She scowled. "Get up! The both of you! To the principle's office! Now!"

--

Drake Mallard could not even think about naming how many times he had sat in this hallway. Sat in this very chair, just outside the Principal's office. He knew it wasn't over a hundred times, but he knew it might as well of been. He will admit, it had been a long while since he's been called into the school for some reason or another. Gosalyn managed to go almost a month without getting into enough trouble that he had to be called in.

He had been half asleep on the Ratcatcher as Launchpad was tuning it up, waiting for a crime, when he got the call from his beeper. With the blessings of his knowledge of gadgets and such, he managed to hook up his beeper so that any who called his house phone, he would know about it. So when he called in to see what was wrong, he was not at all surprised that it was the school.

The clock above him ticked as each second went by. He sighed. The door then opened.

"Mr. Mallard? You can come in now" said the voice of the secretary. Drake stood and walked in, feeling almost numb.

His eyes met the normal surroundings of the school office. A desk in front of him, a counter to his left. Chairs behind the counter. The sight of the heavyset secretary. His deeo blue eyes then met the sight of Gosalyn, sitting on a chair behind the secretary. They widened at the sight of her. A kleenex was held to her nose and the markings of a black eye around her right eye. He could see several bruises. He made to walk over to her, but the secretary stopped him.

"Mr. Mallard" she droned. "Your daughter, Gosalyn, thought it would be fun to pick a fight today with a boy named Beaker Bates. They were found brawling on the school playground today."

Drake winced. _'Gosalyn...' _he whined internally.

"I see. Well, I'm sure she had her reasons. But I must still apologize for her beahvior. I'll be sure to have a talk with her..." replied Drake, his eyes never leaving his daughter, who had yet to see him. She was staring off into space. _'Poor kid...'_

"Yes...Well, Mr. Mallard, I'm afraid you say that just about every time and yet somehow, we find each other talking to one another a week later..." This earned her a glare.

"What are you saying, Ms..." he looked down at her name plate. "Ms. Kail?" He was never able to remember her name, for whatever reason. Did it matter? He shouldn't have to know her name.

"What I'm saying is, unless you manage to control your daughter, we will have choice but to expel her" was the reply. Drake swallowed hard.

"I see."

"Gosalyn is over there. You may take her home for the daughter. Good day to you both" she said dismissively. With that, she stood and walked back into one of the back offices.

Drake walked behind her desk and up to Gosalyn, who looked at him as he walked up to her.

"Oh...hey, dad..." she mumbled. A look of shame was on her face.

Drake didn't say anyhting at first, just looked down at her. He sighed once more and brushed the bangs from his face, revealing a bruise over her left eye. He tsked. "Come on..."

She stood up and followed him out of the school, neither of them saying anything until they reached home.

--

The door shut quietly behind them and Gosalyn looked up at her father's, whose back was facing her as he stared off into space.

"Dad, I'm really sorry, but you don't know my side of it!" began Gosalyn.

"Does it matter? You know better than to fight" retorted Drake. His voice was soft but it held strong authority to it.

Gosalyn frowned. "I know that! But you don't know what those punks said to me!!" she cried, her voice getting louder and louder.

"No reason to shout Gosalyn, I'm standing right in front of you" reprimanded Drake as he turned to face her.

Gosalyn crossed her arms. "Then listen to me! Those kids called me a cheater! A cheater!"

Drake considered what she said with a cool gaze. A moment later his beak upturned to a small smile. "Come here..." he said and led her over to the couch. They both sat down and Drake immediatly started looking over her wounds. She allowed him to roll up her sleeves and look over all the bruises. She knew very well how well her father knew of bruises and cuts. He got new ones just about everyday. She also knew he was an expert at treating them. She guessed that in a another life, he would make an excellent doctor.

"Ouch!" she cried as his gentle hands looked over her black eye.

"See? That's what happens when you get into fights. It stings and leaves a mark" he explained. "And you'll have that makr until you learn to control your anger."

"No it won't, dad. Bruises heal up in a couple of days!" she snorted, looking away.

"True...But if you don't learn from it, you'll just get another one, which'll leave another mark. And it'll keep happening unless you do something about it" he continued soothingly.

Gosalyn nodded at this. She couldn't deny that. What he was saying did make sense. "But he called me a cheater!" she argued miserably.

"Please, Gosalyn. I've been called much worse over the years and I didn't get nearly as beat up as you did and this is nothing!" scoffed Drake. He was now placing fresh new band-aids over the cuts. The nurse at the school did a sloppy job of caring for them in his opinion. "How is that possible, you ask? I simply ignored it. If that kid, Beaker, wants to think you're a liar, go ahead and let him. The important thing is that you and I both know, that you are not a liar."

Gosalyn looked up into her father's blue eyes and nodded. "Okay..." He then wrapped his arms around her and gave a light squeeze, not wanting to hug her too hard due to her bruises.

"Now..." he stood up. "I'm going to go and get some ice cream and then you and I need to talk." Gosalyn groaned as he left. She knew this woulnd't be fun, but at least she would be eating ice cream during it.

She looked down at one of the bruises on her arms and smiled. He was right. It may heal, but if she didn't learn soon, another bruise would be right back there again to leave its mark.

The End

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Author's Note: That's it. Short and sweet. Hope you liked it.


End file.
